


i was doomed by our first kiss

by alliooup



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), ROTBTD - Fandom, Rise of The Brave Tangled Dragons - Fandom, Tangled (2010)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Drabbles, F/M, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, some may be related others may not be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28827027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliooup/pseuds/alliooup
Summary: Perhaps that was why she’d spent the summer seeking him out, catching him in the gardens, summoning him for tea in the atrium, offering to provide a tour of the palace’s libraries so they could collaborate on a tome of his research on dragons. He was the only thing in the world that had felt…real.
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Rapunzel (Disney), Rapunzel/Hiccup
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	i was doomed by our first kiss

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: i was doomed by our first kiss (strange trails starter meme)

“Well, what can I say? I was doomed by our first kiss.”

He said it like it was one of their little jokes, the left corner of his mouth inching upwards, brown hair hanging over his eyes, jostled by the nighttime wind. Neither of them laughed. Hiccup wasn’t even supposed to be here, standing on her balcony in the middle of the night, clad in his traveling leathers, Toothless lingering somewhere far off, ready to return the instant his master summoned him. He held her hands in his, drawing them up towards his chest. His knuckles were ribbed with callouses, formed by years of clutching charcoal for his sketches, heavy iron tools, the hilt of his sword, and the leather grips of his saddle.

They were the hands of a Berkian but also undeniably his – scattered with freckles, marked by phantom cuts that had formed scars, splashed with a few old burns from his hours spent at the forge. Rapunzel had seen and touched a collection of other, softer hands: the hands of princes, wealthy merchant’s sons, and foreign ambassadors. All while her parents gazed over her shoulder, waiting for her to pick one, the _right_ one.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, of Berk, had not been their first choice. He’d come to Corona as an envoy to broker peace between their nations, to mediate a conflict in the Gray Sea that had lasted for the past 10 years. Rapunzel found her way home years after the conflict had started and roughly a year before discussions of negotiation, let alone peace, had ever been broached. Her understanding of Vikings was limited by the storybook retellings her moth- Gothel had told her to make her fear the outside world and the accounts of the King and the Queen, her parents, as well as the gossip of her ladies in waiting and the warnings of her parents’ advisors. Vikings were tall, hairy, broad, dangerous. They made their way through the world on the backs of dragons, using the advantage of the skies to burn and pillage, to steal, to fight for the sheer, unadulterated joy of feeling something break beneath their hands. 

Rapunzel had also been warned by one of her ladies in waiting that Vikings were ugly, a warning her lady considered to be of the utmost importance to a princess.

He hadn’t been ugly. He’d strode into the throne room in leather armor, red Berkian dragon emblazoned on his chest, and his helmet at his side. He was maybe rugged in the eyes of the court, lacking the angular features and clear skin her people were accustomed to. He wore braids and one of his legs was replaced with a metal contraption that clanked with every step he took, echoing off the stone walls all the way to painted ceilings. If she was being honest, Rapunzel found him rather lovely to look at – different. Beautiful, even.

She’d wanted to paint him.

He’d later told her he’d hardly been in the position to refuse the request of a princess whose favor he had a sworn obligation to curry, same lilted smile, same calloused hands. Though that time, he’d simply kissed her hand, as was the custom. He’d seemed so stiff with the motion, awkward. Like he’d only ever practiced it but never performed the task. Rapunzel could empathize. It didn’t matter how many people kissed her hand, bowed at her feet, or proposed offers for her hand in marriage – to her father of course, never to her, it never felt natural. She fidgeted, too small for such a commanding, heavy piece of ornamental furniture.

Perhaps that was why she’d spent the summer seeking him out, catching him in the gardens, summoning him for tea in the atrium, offering to provide a tour of the palace’s libraries so they could collaborate on a tome of his research on dragons. He was the only thing in the world that had felt…real.

Like whatever stuff he was made of, embers, seafoam, sky, and pine… maybe she was too.

She thought Hiccup might disagree. Once while they sat on the private beach of the palace, art supplies neatly stored in trunks on the sand with an umbrella shading them from the relentless heat, he’d said “you’re like… the sun.” He’d run his fingers through his hair, gaze splitting between meeting her eyes and focusing on the sketchpad in his lap.

She’d teased him, swiping the tip of his nose with her paintbrush, leaving a trace of the shade _mulberry wine_ behind. “Incorrigibly overwhelming?” She’d been thinking of his sunburnt cheeks and shoulders. For a dragon rider, she’d expected him to be less affected by heat and flame. Apparently, it was the armor that did all the work.

He’d caught her hand, chuckling at her challenge. “ _No._ Well, maybe. Not in the way you think.” He was reaching for the right thing to say, either because he’d never found a way to put his feelings into words until then or because expressing them _to_ her presented a new challenge. She wondered if he’d flushed. She couldn’t tell with his cheeks burnt. “You just… glow.”

She’d left with his sketch clutched to her chest – a picture of a girl with the wind in her hair, staring out into rolling waves.

The summer had come and gone like a breath – too shallow, too quick. He was supposed to return home to Berk, a new suitor materialized from across the sea. He was someone her mother enjoyed, someone her father approved of. Tadashi of house Hamada. He brought her a green velvet box with a golden necklace inside, a delicate, teardrop diamond dangling from each link of the chain.

She’d looked to Hiccup then, instead of her betrothed. As the throne room filled with raucous applause, the silken sound of the orchestra coming to life to celebrate the promised match, Rapunzel found herself sinking into the floor, swallowed up by stone and satin and the bite of her corset hugging against her ribs. Hiccup was a figure framed by black fog and he inched further and further away from her. She was in a tower, plunging deeper and deeper into the retreat of her own mind. There was no sky, no open window. Just a smooth hand taking hers, leading her out to dance.

She’d gone to bed early with the excuse of such sudden, exciting news having exhausted her. Rapunzel’s request to be alone was begrudgingly respected, a rare occurrence. Her mother had lingered by the door. She was hesitant, uncertain. “You know… I didn’t know your father when I met him.

All Rapunzel had to do was look at her.

Her mother had bitten her bottom lip, sighed. It pained Rapunzel to see. The urge to comfort the queen swelled in Rapunzel’s chest but simmered out beneath the weight of her own sentence, of the choice she knew had never been hers slipping away.

“I love you, Rapunzel.”

“I know. I love you too.” She meant it.

The meaning of those words, the weight of family clung to her like waterlogged clothes. She loved them, so shouldn’t she choose them over everything? She’d lost them and found them in a lifetime, an undeniable rarity. She had a home. She had escaped a life of imprisonment, hadn’t she? She should be grateful. She should want to stay. She should tell him no.

“Listen Punzie, I know you don’t want to hurt them. I know, I know this is crazy, okay?” His brow furrowed, desperation creasing the line of his lips. Her chest ached. He squeezed her hands, gently drawing her closer. In the open air, he was the only warm thing. “I know it will ruin everything we’ve worked for and peace between Corona and Berk will be impossible.” The acknowledgment pained him, she could hear it in his voice. She released his hands so he could open her arms, rising onto her toes to hold him.

This was selfish, wasn’t it?

He shuddered against her. His arms stuttered, seemingly torn between where they belonged: around her or at his sides. The struggle was short-lived. He folded her into his chest, heat blooming where his body blocked the cold fingers of the air from traveling through her nightgown.

“Just…I want you to be free.” His voice wobbled.

Tears bloomed in her eyes.

“I-I want to choose you. I want to choose you, and if you’re willing, I want…I want you to choose me too.” His voice faded off, disappearing into the stars. “I…let’s run away. Let’s be happy.”

Rapunzel squeezed him tighter, the scent of leather perfuming her nose. She pulled back, rubbing the tears from her eyes. In stories, love always felt good. It was electric. It fastened a lantern to the soul and carried it up, away into blissful, unexplored futures. Everyone, everything was happy because it ended. Because love didn’t have a cost.

Rapunzel summoned her courage; she bore the weight of it like a crown. “If you’re doomed,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Then I’m doomed with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any and all feedback (including criticism). If you want to request a drabble for rotbtd or any other ships feel free to send them in. It's helpful if you include a prompt.


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